


Marked

by AVAAntares



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Permanent marker, Romance, Sequel, Soulmates, badass Ianto, showers as a self-defense system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVAAntares/pseuds/AVAAntares
Summary: We rejoin our heroes some time after the events ofMatchless.There's something Jack has wanted to do for a long time. Something creative. Something romantic.Something hereallydidn't think through.And Ianto Jones has a particular knack for revenge...





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Matchless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14229033) by [AVAAntares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVAAntares/pseuds/AVAAntares). 



> This fic follows my dramatic/semi-canon soulmate AU _Matchless_ and assumes a knowledge of that story's events (and contains spoilers for it!). For best results, please read them in the intended order.

Ianto rose hazily from the depths of sleep to a tickling sensation on his arm. He tried to rub it away, but something held his hand fast.

“Easy,” Jack’s voice, soothing, reached him. “Hold still. I’m almost finished.”

Ianto began to drift back off, until his sleep-encumbered brain caught up with his ears. “Finished?” He blinked his eyes into focus and turned to find Jack, flopped on his stomach in the bed beside him, drawing on his wrist with a marker. “Jack! What are you doing?” He tried to free his hand from Jack’s grasp.

“Hold still!” Jack shifted so his body weight rested over Ianto’s elbow, making it impossible to move his arm, and finished the mark he was making. “There. All done.” He rolled off, and Ianto jerked his arm away to inspect it.

“What is this?” Ianto propped himself up against the pillows, switched on the bedside lamp, and examined Jack’s handiwork. Across his wrist, in the same place his birthmark had once been, was a crudely-rendered Torchwood T done in purple ink.

Jack grinned and tossed the marker aside. “I wanted to do something.”

Ianto stared back at him. “You wanted to draw the Torchwood insignia on me with marker? What am I, office stationery?”

“Not that!” Jack rolled his eyes. “You know those silly soulmate romance novels they sell in airports?” Ianto shook his head, and Jack looked surprised. “Really? Huh. Couldn’t escape ‘em a few years ago. Anyway, there’s something that always happens in them that I wanted to do, but your real mark faded before I had the chance.”

Ianto inched away on the bed. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

Jack captured Ianto’s hand again and held it with the mark upturned between them. “This.” He bent over the mark and slowly, tenderly, pressed his lips to it.

A thrill ran up Ianto’s spine at the sensation of Jack’s kiss. He didn’t know how such a simple thing could move him so deeply, but the gesture was beautiful. His heart swelled with emotion. “Jack…”

“Just that,” Jack whispered, meeting his eyes. His thumb stroked gently over Ianto’s wrist, as he’d done the very first time Ianto had shown him his birthmark. The skin of Ianto’s arms prickled with the touch. Ianto gazed thoughtfully at the irregular purple lines radiating from the base of his hand.

Jack’s soft gaze burned into him. Ianto gravitated toward his lover, tipping his head forward until their lips were nearly touching. He stayed that way for a moment, the warmth of Jack’s face tingling his skin. When he could bear it no longer, he turned so his lips just brushed against Jack’s ear, and breathed the words he’d been struggling to hold back:

“ _My_ turn.”

Ianto turned and dove for the discarded marker. Jack laughed and dodged, but Ianto was faster. He threw himself over Jack’s body and made a grab for his hips. The marker squiggled a few ragged circles on Jack’s flesh before Jack managed to twist onto his back, protecting the place on his hip where his own mark had once been.

Ianto tried to sound stern, but knew he was failing. “Hold still, if you don’t want stripes all over your arse!”

Jack was laughing too hard to sound anything like serious. “You’re not drawing on my butt!”

“I’ll draw someplace else, if you don’t stop squirming!”

“You’ve got to catch me first!” With superhuman agility, Jack flipped himself out from under Ianto and made a dash for the en suite. Ianto followed, but by the time he’d caught up, Jack was standing under the protection of the shower spray. “Ha! Can’t use the marker in here!”

Ianto tossed the marker into the sink, then stepped into the steaming shower cubicle with him. “No, I can’t. I suppose I’ll have to mark you another way.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose, his pupils dilating with interest. “Oh?”

Ianto smiled and turned him around—then slapped him, hard, across the arse.

“Ow!” Jack yelped. “What was that for?”

“Punishment. You should have let me draw on you.”

Jack was rubbing his backside, where the red outline of Ianto’s hand was becoming visible. “That hurt,” he sulked, though there was no venom in it. In fact, Ianto could swear he looked… thoughtful.

“You don’t seem too traumatized.”

“No,” Jack agreed. “Actually, it was kinda hot.” He flashed his best come-on grin. “Do it again sometime?”

 Ianto fixed him with a look. “You don’t really understand the concept of ‘punishment,’ do you?”

“Sure, I do. This still stings.” He turned to show Ianto the hand print, which was already fading in the heat of the shower. “Kiss it and make it better?”

Ianto rolled his eyes and reached around Jack for the soap. “You always have to have the last laugh, don’t you?” He rubbed the soap over the mark on his wrist, frowned, then lathered up his hands and scrubbed at it with his fingernails. “Jack, you didn’t.” Ianto turned to Jack with a look of horror. “This is indelible ink!”

“So?”

“Jack, I can’t go into work like this!”

“Why not? You had that mark on your wrist for twenty-five years and nobody said a thing about it. What’s the problem now?”

“That was a birthmark. This is purple ink!”

Jack waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Who’s got the last laugh now?”

Ianto fixed him with his most stern look. “Don’t start a war you can’t win, captain,” he growled low in his throat. Jack’s eyes widened, and Ianto leaned closer. “I know where you sleep, and I have access to Torchwood universal permanent labeling toner.”

Jack licked his lips. “You know, you’re really, _really_ hot when you’re angry.”

“ _Jack._ ”

Jack sighed. “Fine. I’ll go get the alcohol.” He faltered under Ianto’s expectant stare. “…And the stain remover, just in case that doesn’t take it all off.”

As Jack stepped out of the shower, Ianto caught a glimpse of his backside, marred by a few purple squiggles and one flushed red spot the size of his hand. He had to admit, there was a small part of him that missed the symbol that had once been there, and for a fleeting moment he regretted not asking Jack to replace their lost marks with matching tattoos, as many couples had chosen to do after the nanites dispersed.

Then again, if they’d had tattoos, Jack would never have tried decorating him with marker—and that stunt was giving Ianto _all_ _sorts_ of new ideas. He grinned wickedly to himself. They may not be marked with matching symbols any longer, but it was going to be _much_ more fun marking Jack in his own way.

**Author's Note:**

> Truth be told, I had this bit completely written while I was only about a third of the way into _Matchless_. The marker scene just popped into my head, and was so much fun I had to put _Matchless_ on hold to write it down. Of course, then the file sat taunting me for several months while I struggled to finish the first story. I'm glad to finally have them both done and posted!


End file.
